


Puella

by Velamine_Menace



Category: No Fandom, Original Work, Poetry - Fandom
Genre: Freeform, No Fandom - Freeform, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 10:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velamine_Menace/pseuds/Velamine_Menace
Summary: What I withdrew from CHILD.





	1. Opening

Beginning.  
What is it?  
The rosy kiss of dawn  
Calling farewell to the deep night  
Or the sunset, bathing the world in gold  
Heralding in the misty twilight?  
After all, what is life but an endless cycle?  
Even the reddest, brightest roses of June  
Grow, concealed and wrapped up  
Only for its buds to unfurl and astound.  
Even the reddest, brightest roses of June  
Wilt under the hot, scorching August sun,  
Neglected by the gardener  
Who delights in its splendor but forgets to water,  
And shivers as the Sun goes down,  
Quivering and bending in the moaning winds of Fall,  
And after persevering through these trials  
Succumbs to the sharp Winter frost.  
But in the Spring,  
When the snow melts and the Sun once more opens her bright eyes,  
A new, budding rosebush stands in its place,  
Delicately dazzled with diamond dewdrops glistening in the sweet morning air.  
Winter comes and winter goes  
But the hope to smell the roses of Spring  
And feel the crunch of new grass under your feet  
And cradle new life in your arms;  
Is it enough to keep you warm when your feet go numb with cold?  
Is it enough to keep you happy despite the sorrows of the world?


	2. Nomenclature

Humans have a strange   
Fascination with words.

Beginning as newborns  
Babbling and gurgling for milk  
I like to think that names  
Should represent who you are  
Names you are born with   
Are a label, defining a   
Mewling sweet-potato baby  
As a prince, a Smith,   
A descendant of   
A past you never lived.  
Thus the prince   
Grows to become   
A king in name,  
And the Smith’s fathers   
Once worked metal,  
But these names   
Do not define them.

In science, organisms are   
Named after their  
Physical,  
Mental and  
Spiritual  
Characteristics.  
Why aren’t we?  
After all, aren’t we living, too?

Velamine.  
I am hidden,  
Cloaked,  
Concealed,  
Stashing away   
My strength  
My fury and   
My vengeance.

Tease me and needle me  
I will laugh and poke you back,  
But if you hold your sword to  
My sisters’ and brothers’ necks  
God save you.


	3. Voices

Waking up  
I see her  
She is awake, too

Biking to school,  
I stifle a yawn  
But she is alert

I still feel her presence  
Looming, like a dark cloud.

Sitting in class  
I hear her, taunting:  
Idiot, obnoxious, try-hard

Joking with friends  
I hide her, desperately  
Cackling at their antics

But I still feel her presence  
Looming, like a dark cloud

Ready to race  
I see her in my mind  
Drowning me before I dive

About to sleep  
She screams at me,  
So I listen

I stay awake  
Dutiful and quiet  
With a smile on my face

I still feel her presence  
A raging monsoon of doubt.


	4. Duality

They say I speak too loudly  
Judge too harshly   
Jump too quickly 

But then criticize when I   
Talk less passionately  
Laugh less giggly  
Live less dramatically.

Decide.  
Which is it?


	5. Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly dislike this poem. When I wrote this, I was under a lot of pressure to write in a rhyming scheme, which I don't naturally write in, and instead of adding whimsy and charm to this poem, the rhyming scheme rendered this piece insincere.

(He stands in front of me  
Dark rings from lack of sleep  
And- I lean in, looking closer)

“What’s this? Silver hair?”

“Pftt, no biggie.” 

(His voice is rusty... creaky?

Slouching naturally; has his back  
Finally taken the toll of the lack  
Of caring how many books   
He carries, daily, on his person  
Or is there some other reason?  
I almost frown, my brow on   
The verge of furrowing  
For his disheveled appearance  
Goes beyond concerning  
I see something in his eyes…  
Yearning?)

Why is it that sometimes  
Words roll off the tip   
Of my silver tongue  
Into seamless stories  
But around them I  
Struggle to speak?  
It’s….

Ironic?  
(My forced smile,  
No doubt, appears frenetic)

No….Pathetic?   
(He pauses, his expression prophetic)  
Maybe a mix of both  
I dunno

(I wrap my arm around him.   
My eyes scrunch up, the world goes dim)

Hey… It’s ok.  
You’ll get better  
(I think his cheek is slightly wetter?)  
Shhhhh, listen   
I’ve got your back,   
I know you can win this.


	6. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote this, it felt cringeworthy and crappy, but I didn't really care at the time. I just wanted to write a piece adressed to the other writers that would force them to think for once.

My dearest friend,  
Allow me to start over. 

“Dearest’.  
I mean no insult to my other friends in saying that.

‘Friend’.  
Please don’t ask me what I define as a friend. 

‘My’.   
Are you, though?


	7. LIFE HURTS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of physical injury

Every moment is agony,  
But it comes in varying degrees of pain.  
I remember, in the emergency room  
They would ask me:  
On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?  
For me, ten was never an option. How can I  
Put a number on it?  
How do I know I won’t feel worse later,  
But have no number to give it,  
Because I already used my 10 on a broken arm?  
I watch my life in reverse.  
I see injuries zoom on and off the screen;  
I sit in agony for seven hours sobbing  
As I wait for the doctor to tend to my  
Bleeding, poisoned foot  
Barbed from a stingray’s tail.  
I climb on my father’s back, laughing  
And fall off, wincing as I hear the bone in  
My arm crack.  
Mixed in throughout this morbid film,  
I see bruises disappear and reappear  
Faster than I can count.  
My heart breaks,  
Heals  
And the process repeats endlessly,  
Each time it weakens,  
It loses its resolve. 

What is life but a heavenly test  
Pushing my wits past their breaking point  
Just to see how I react?

I cannot give up.  
I refuse to.  
I’ve tried too hard.


	8. Tipping

The feeling of standing on a sheer cliff  
Overlooking a vast, endless chasm  
Is overwhelming.   
It’s so dark down there  
They say it’s bottomless,  
But that’s impossible, right?  
So what happens if I ‘trip’,  
Into the abyss by your hands.  
Will I fall forever,  
Sustained only by my fury,  
Never to feast on revenge  
Or be impaled by the jagged rocks below.

If they wound me,   
Will I die?  
Or will I lie there in agony  
Smelling the nauseously rich iron of my blood  
Unable to move without a gasp of pain  
Bringing tears to my eyes?


	9. Laughter

Cackling  
Snickering  
Chuckling  
Wheezing  
Guffawing

Which is it?


	10. Mayday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this because I forgot my medication and I had to write SOMETHING so I just wrote some shit without much introspection.

Graceful birds soaring   
Blue sky turns into a storm  
My love, we’re crashing.


	11. Trance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point, I was so sleep deprived that I just barfed my thoughts.

is it a dream?  
i ask myself,  
or is it the land of the wake?

is falling asleep   
truly losing sense  
or is it actually entering reality?

is waking up really waking up?  
or is our subconscious falling asleep?

i do not know,   
perhaps we don’t even exist  
perhaps this is the fantasy of another.

perhaps this world is a  
mere dream of a   
sleeping, eternal giant.

but although  
that may be so,  
I must shut my eyes once more.


	12. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is actually a piece I wrote for the school newspaper's poetry section that I never submitted, and I had to post SOMETHING in child, so I posted this.

A mirror-  
Still  
Calm  
A seemingly  
Infinite expanse  
Stretching forever   
Across the horizon.

A sheet of glass  
Transforming into a   
Stallion of immeasurable power  
In the lapse of a moment.

Some are cautious,   
Placing one toe in at a time,  
Afraid of the unknown,   
Shy of the cold.

But I leap in,  
Plunge into the frigidity  
With an urgency.

I allow this spirit to   
Consume me,  
To overpower my senses,  
For it is medicine  
For my soul,  
And for it I have pined. 

The sea is a place of magic  
Where both cares and footprints are left and   
Washed away by the   
Eternal tides.


	13. Reply

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively Titled: Velamine is an overemotional mother hen

Child, the world is a horrible place.  
I wanted to shield you from it,  
My hand over your face   
While watching TV late at night,   
Switching channels only to see  
Children, young sweet and kind  
Like you, but starved and sickly,  
Terror in their eyes as their  
World is torn to pieces;   
Why do the old insist on killing  
The hope that struggles to grow?

Child, the world is an unjust horror.  
I wanted to protect you, hold you closer  
But now, I look at you, almost   
Full grown, wanting  
Full roam, fighting   
To show’em, screaming  
In the face of bigotry  
And I can’t stop you.

Please, think of the children  
But also think of me.


	14. Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: kind of asphyxiation?, suicide if you squint hard enough

Standing here  
Eyes glassy, gazing  
Far off into the fog  
I block the paths of   
Turtles grumbling,   
“What is that fool doing?” 

I search the wispy shapes of vapor   
And see pictures,  
Stories telling of futures that may have been.

My outstretched hand touches the cloud.  
I smile wistfully as I feel its tendrils curl around my finger;  
It's so sweet and soft and cool like an overturned pillow in the middle of the night. 

I step into the pearly gas,  
And sigh as it rushes to smother me  
As I disappear from view.


	15. Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of imperialism, brief use of f*** as a curse word
> 
> Also this poem is lowkey problematic, but I included it because I believe it is dishonest to edit what is supposed to be an original record. 
> 
> Nota Bene: I wrote this with severe sleep deprivation, suffering severe withdrawal from my Prozac medication. I've always had personal issues of feeling like I belong to a culture, because both of my parents are mixed kids, and unlike the rest of my family, my siblings and I weren't taught Farsi.

When I was a little girl  
I asked Mama what color my eyes were.  
Mama told me I had rainbow eyes,  
Eyes that would change color in the light,  
But when I was born I had deep blue eyes,  
Then they changed to green when I was four.   
She said my hair was the same.  
It was black, but became brown,   
And now glowing in the hot summer sun it was reddish blond. 

I remember   
In first grade, the paper for my Super Me project asked me the same question.   
I confidently scrawled in that same answer.   
But I was told   
No   
You aren't all of those things.  
See? Your eyes are hazel.   
Your hair is brown. 

In my presentation in third grade  
I told the class that I was  
Iranian, Mexican and Russian. 

But why don't you look like any of those?

Who are you? 

Where is your family from?

Who is your family?

Where is your family… do you have any?

How can you be any of those if you don’t even interact with your family? 

Ok, your grandpa was a picker……. but when did you hug him last?

I'm sorry.

My white grandma is the only one I can see because everyone else has been fucked over via imperialism.

Papa was a refugee because of white people  
But you don't even call him Iranian  
You think he's his own oppressor.

Just

Make up your mind.


	16. A Word To Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was adressed to Mercy, who in a previous poem had expressed suicidal/self harming thoughts. Although at the time I was upset with her (for an unrelated reason), I decided to write this poem to comfort her.

Mercy  
My dear   
Dear friend,

The first bird of dawn sings,  
Sounds her sadness that the  
Warm Moon’s glow  
Fades away,   
Leaving the world in dreary pearly white.

She thinks no one can hear her woe  
No one can help her  
No one can comfort her 

Yet as the rosy fingers of sunrise reach over the rolling hills  
A voice responds   
Then another   
And another  
Until the hillside is filled with the songs of the birds   
Telling their stories  
Sharing their sorrows   
And drawing from each other the strength to face the blinding sun.


	17. Opening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nota Bene: I wrote 'Cataracts' with heavy sarcasm and bitterness, so if it seems cheesy and corny, know that it's supposed to be. It was meant to be a slap in the face to the self-righteous Mercy. I'm not proud of my bitter response, but to not include poems in this record is creative dishonesty.

When I first met you,  
You told me  
You’d never give me up.  
You’d never let me down  
Down into the ashes  
And desert me.

You told me  
I wasn’t alone  
With no one to hold  
That you were always right beside me  
Yet as I stumbled  
Blindly through the blistering sand  
You simply told me to open my eyes.

I believed you,  
YOU who made me feel loved when no one else would,  
YOU who taught me the way of God..  
You who reached  
Touching cool fingers to my forehead  
Telling me to be still  
As you removed the blind from my eyes  
But you didn’t. 

You LIED.  
You promised me you would grab ahold of my hand  
And never let go.  
Sister, why did you forsake me so?

I lived in awe of you  
Worshipped the ground you stepped on  
Loved the way your soft eyes smiled  
Yet didn’t realise until now  
That they are dim with age  
Milky like the Lethe.


	18. Three Letters

Stood there in the vast expanse  
Where even I could not tell where sky and land parted.


	19. Velamine is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicide, blood, violence 
> 
> Nota Bene: I created Arrah as a separate poetic voice to speak for Velamine after she 'died'

Velamine is dead. And I killed her.

Velamine wasn’t real, but her blood was.

Velamine is gone.

Velamine is

Velamine;

Hidden.

-Arrah


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's cringe, but I had serious issues going on when I wrote this.

Ahahahahahaha

Hahahahaha  
Hahahahaha

Watch me as i gravitate 

Watch me as i navigate

Watch me as i scream

Ahahahahahaha

No one to hear

The view is clear

I’m free to greigh 

As loud as I please

-Arrah


	21. Gorillaz Warfare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Gorillaz don't sue me, it's not my fault that I used to be an edgy child.

Shaka shaka shaka 

Feel the rhythm 

Of my heart 

Shaka Shaka Shaka 

Feel well? I feel good!

Shaka Shaka Shaka 

Feel good! 

Shaka Shaka Shaka 

Up on Melancholy Hill

Sits a manatee 

Singing

Shaka Shaka 

Shaka 

Shack

Fuck off lmao. 

City’s breaking on the 

camel’s back 

A little more weight 

Never killed nobody.

Love’s forever, 

Love is free 

Hahahahahaha.


	22. Josefina's Lament

Met the ghost of Velamine   
One hot summer’s night  
I was sweating   
Sweating so hard  
My palms were slick   
I could taste my salt in the thick air.

Velamine’s eyes watched me   
Cool green emotion jade  
I had the urge to straighten her hair  
It was so unruly it bothered me   
Trying to ignore her frizz I  
Coughed, wishing the sticky   
Fog around me would blow away

The silence was tepid  
Like a lukewarm lake   
Buzzing with mosquitoes   
Wriggling pearly larvae   
Emerging from their  
Slimy gooey eggs   
It was the type of silence  
That makes your skin crawl  
Makes you want to shudder   
And plunge in the cool lake  
But you can't   
Because it's brown with pollute

Velamine’s hair was brown too   
Thick and soft and curly  
Sticky and red when I found her  
The day Arrah came to town  
On a rusty blue volkswagen   
Singing in her rosen voice   
As she banged on the dashboard   
To the rhythm of the music   
That blared from her radio


	23. Resurrection

The Sea was Clear   
That night, as we,  
Two shadows in the   
Winter, Winds blowing  
Scorching Sands round   
And round my ankles

The pain terrible   
Closing my eyes   
Fire cannot kill   
The Phoenix 

The Phoenix   
She cries   
Her tears heal  
She never truly dies

Yes, she is most alive  
As Ash, swirling in the air  
Up into the cerulean sky  
Like an aluminum song   
Light, bright cheap 

Glaring in the sun   
Easily moldeable   
Easily obtained   
Like the Sand  
That swirls round   
My ankles in the   
Winter, Winds blowing.


	24. Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicide attempt, emotional abuse
> 
> Nota Bene: I wasn't even trying to write poetry at this point. I was so frustrated and so lost that this was essentially a good-bye letter to my friends.

What is it really?  
My mother said it took   
Two to tango but  
What if one didn't know   
How to dance?   
What if one didn’t have   
A partner to dance with?  
What if everyone in the room  
Was paired off with another   
And as you felt the world spin  
And dip and twirl, kicking up  
Choking dust that made your eyes   
Water,  
Water you begged you asked   
You gave up who you were  
You shaped yourself into another  
So they would offer you a small glass   
Anyone anyone anyone  
No one

I asked so many times.  
When someone responded,   
They brushed me away.  
They told me to feel lucky  
To grow up   
To get a grip  
To get friends.

She told me no one wanted to be   
My friend   
Shunned me   
Spurned me  
Spat in my eye

You guys go ahead,   
Tell yourselves you did what you could  
I don't care. 

“You didn't reach out”  
Sure hun  
Do you know how much I opened up?  
Or were you blind when I was an   
Absolute mess eyes puffy, silent for once   
Not making stupid jokes. 

How do you think it feels   
To want love so much you change who you are, only to never be accepted.

Sure, they said they liked me,  
Sure, they laughed at my dumb jokes  
The jokes I researched the night before   
Scouring the internet for courage   
For comedy  
For a reason to be wanted 

Whenever I wasn't a buffoon  
I was ignored.

Whenever I tried to be genuine   
Tried to be truly kind  
No one believed me  
I'm not surprised though  
That was my intention 

\----------------------

I have a terrible habit of being too smart for my own good.

That's what the police officer said when I came home at one in the morning.

I don't know anything about Overwatch  
Or Anime  
And honestly I'm terrible at running  
And all the things you love  
But your group, your fam, seemed like  
It was a place I could feel the hugs   
That I was denied in my home. 

I've told everyone I'm suicidal.   
Why did it take for me to explode for   
Them to finally notice. 

Juli, you were there when I tried to overdose on Advil. 

I just wanted them to care,  
To be a family   
Even though I felt like a stranger 

They pretended to tolerate me   
But then would have separate chats  
And separate group outings 

Why though  
Why couldn't you just tell me what was wrong with me? I changed who I was in the beginning, I could do it again.

Why couldn't you just 

Ahem

Communicate?

-Boaty McBoatface


	25. A Reply

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only friend I have kept from the Child circle since leaving, Alegría (not really her name, obviously), wrote me a poem, asking me if I would like to play piano at her house with her.

A Reply:

I would really like that.  
Thank you. 

Sincerely,

Me


	26. Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: child abuse

Mama you tried   
You tried to brand me   
With your iron hot slaps

You tried to break me  
Break the part of me that wasn't  
Tall, brown haired like you

You tried to bleach my skin  
Tried to rip out my eyes  
And replace them with glass

But now I tower over her  
Now my eyes glitter hazel  
Now I just laugh  
Laugh in the face of fury

You cannot burn a Phoenix, Mama  
You cannot burn a Phoenix.


	27. Talons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Child abuse

Mama you hurt me  
Mama you try my patience   
Mama they've left me  
Now who’s left to save us

I speak for the nameless   
I preach for the ageless

If you don't stop,  
You don't stop,   
But the world’s still spinning  
And I’ll hold my spot.

Words are beautiful  
I see them flying round me   
Like flighty birds 

Why do you breed such   
Deceiving doves?  
Soft and sweet  
Only until you lull me to sleep.

You call your birds on me   
They claw at my face   
They gouge my eyes  
Leaving empty bloody sockets  
Talons scratch my everywhere  
But can't touch me   
Because every time you kill me  
I cry 

My salty tears clean my wounds   
And as soon as they dry,   
You're back, soft and warm  
Suffocatingly sweetsmelling,  
Like an uncomfortably hot bakery.


	28. No Drinking Partner For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nota Bene: Written in response to Echo, who wrote a stingingly sweet poem about commiserating with friends. As someone who backstabbed me when I was most vulnurable, however, Echo's sentiments are quite ironic.

I do not want hands to foul my water.  
It is pure and silver and untainted.  
I want it to be raw and untouched always.  
What good do hands do?  
After all, people were created to destroy.


	29. Autonomous, I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: child abuse, suicide mention

I love my siblings more than anything I can possibly imagine.  
I want to be a leader for them,  
Be strong and loving,  
Everything my parents deny them.

I hold them when they cry  
And kiss them goodnight  
And teach them to speak to the ocean  
And how to listen to the mountains  
And how to smell rain hours away.

I sing them to sleep  
And tickle them to tears  
And drop whatever I’m doing to play with them.

I want more than anything  
For them to grow up knowing safety,  
Knowing love,  
Knowing something other than a mother  
Telling them they’re worthless.

I want them to not listen to her,  
To know in their hearts that they  
Are so beautiful   
And so smart  
And so powerful  
And their mother can’t take that away  
No matter how many times she hits  
No matter what she destroys  
No matter what she breaks  
She can’t break them.

My sisters are what keeps me alive.  
They’re the reason I’m alive.  
So when I look at my name  
I can’t help but wonder  
If I will fail like all that came before me  
Not be the person I try to be for them  
Not be lighthearted and loving and stable.

And I hate myself whenever I can’t live up to that,  
Can’t live to my potential  
Can’t handle listening to Heathers on repeat without losing my mind.  
I hate how weak I am,   
How I can’t be the perfect big sister  
No matter how hard I try.

I hate how I love my parents,  
Hate how I give in to their machinations,  
Hate how I break under their pressures,  
Hate how I care.

I despise how much I look like my mother,  
Despise how similar my sense of humor is to my father:  
I want to tear my flesh off,   
See here? I am flesh and bone  
Not your possession.


	30. Summer Rot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: zombie with somewhat gory detail?

Mama, I saw a dead man   
Walking through my wall  
Mama tell me, Mama say  
That I merely dreamt it all.

Mama, I smelt his fetid breath  
Ragged haggard stench   
Mama tell me, Mama pray  
I never saw the wretch.

The stairs are wailing   
The stairs are groaning  
As the stench begins to thick 

My stomach tosses and turns  
As I struggle in his grasp,   
Screaming shouting in the morn

Mama, MAMA!

please...


	31. Lime Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: acid mention, implied child abuse
> 
> Nota Bene: lime green is my mother's favorite color. she calls it "the happy color"

Don’thurtmedon’ttouchmedon’tspeak  
Please…

Your citric acid stings it hurts me  
Please…

Yes I love you I love you of course of course 

Just please… 

Your flavor is blinding   
Too harsh and bright 

I love you I love you I love you   
Always

My fault my fault my fault

I know I'm a failure   
I know I'm not citrus

You say such an ugly color never should have been conceived 

I'm sorryI’msorry 

You hate the color blue   
It makes you feel sad  
Well my love I would   
Dye for you to be happy 

I’m sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I’m-


	32. Blue's Lullaby

Sister kiss me sister cradle me  
Hold me under the smile of the moon

As the stars sing me to sleep

Sister rock me in your waves   
Let me sink to your deeps.

Cool my hot head and smooth my rough tongue, 

Bring me to life and let me be young.

Sister oh sister  
You've never hurt me  
You've always loved me and kissed me   
And rocked me to sleep.

Sister oh sister   
Please take my heart too   
It already belongs in your masses of   
Blue.


	33. Medenlingual

Ameh is on the phone right now. 

“Who is this”

“OHSOFIA! Choshkele man jeegarassalassalassalaman!”

“Ha, thanks Ameh Valo.”

“How are you?”“Good good”

“Burikalah Sofia! Balle!”

“Chodafez!” 

“Chodafez”

“Hola, Abuelo.”

“¿Hola Sofia, cómo estás tú?”

“¿Ehhh, muy bien, gracias… y usted?”

“Aha, me too. ¿Cómo va tu vida?”

“…hey, Sofia! What's the translation of this again? I can't remember.” 

“Uhhh… it's rejected.”

“I thought it was ‘to be thrown out of’?”

“Uhhh…. fucking hell sorry I got confused.”

“And then he's like really… Shit what's that word again… fucking hell.”

“Uhhh Ameh can you repeat that?”

“...What does that mean again?”

“Sofia how many languages do you know?” 

“None.”


	34. Bye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nota Bene: This is the last poem I wrote in Child. However, it will not be the last poem I will write.

I think this is it  
The end of the road  
See ya suckers  
Bye


End file.
